


We Know the Fire Awaits

by brezcu



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Arson, M/M, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 02:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2906033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brezcu/pseuds/brezcu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Jamie jogs up to the house. The lights are all on and the door is open. He runs through it and looks around for any signs of life. No one is there, but pretty quickly Jamie notices the small fire on the kitchen counter. It’s burning seemingly of its own accord inside a sealed glass jar. Underneath it is a note in unfamiliar handwriting:</i> We’re at the top of John Hancock Tower. Don’t call the cops or pretty boy will be a little hotter than usual.</p><p>A superhero AU where Jamie and Tyler save the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Know the Fire Awaits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NewStarRising91](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewStarRising91/gifts).



> So this was my attempt at/interpretation of stars_seguin's prompt: It’s a Tyler/Jamie Superhero AU, where one of them has a secret identity as a superhero, and tries hard to keep it from the other but after a while, a new villain comes to town and plots to take out our Superhero by using his love against him, and perhaps the normal one is taken hostage by the Villain as a way to bait/control the Superhero.
> 
> Happy Birthday! :)
> 
> EDIT: Shit I forgot Tyler is a dumbass and named his dog Cash. Fixed now.

It’s snowing in Dallas in the middle of October. More specifically it’s snowing in Jamie’s house in Dallas in the middle of October.

Jamie lies on his couch, his ceiling fan spin lazily, with an arm outstretched and a finger twirling in time with the fan blades. With each turn of his finger another flurry of snow falls from above, water from the air freezing and crystallizing. It appears out of nowhere and sprinkles downward, melting and reabsorbing back into the air just before falling on Jamie’s nose.

A key scrapes its way into the lock of the front door. Jamie whips his head around and drops his arm to his side. The last of the snow falls on Jamie’s face and he swipes at it in a rush.

The door opens, and Tyler walks in. Jamie lets out a small breath and gets off the couch.  “Hey man, how’re you?”

Tyler shuts and locks the door behind him. “Good. You eaten yet?”

“I had some coffee and toast, so not really.”

“Sweet. how about eggs?” Tyler drops his keys on the table by the door, and walks to the kitchen. “It’s about all I can make, so it’s kinda gonna be eggs either way.”

“Eggs are fine,” Jamie says with a laugh, following Tyler to the kitchen. Jamie hops up onto the counter and watches Tyler pull eggs, spinach, and a red pepper out of the fridge and set them on the counter.

He opens the fridge again and turns to Jamie. “I’m feeling ham in mine. You want some?”

Jamie shrugs. “I’ll eat whatever you make. I’m not picky.”

Tyler pulls the package of ham steaks out, grabs the glass cutting board, and slaps the two next to Jamie’s thigh. “If you want food, then get off your ass and help. Dice one of these, and I’ll do the veggies.”

Jamie huffs, mock-angry, and gets off his counter before pulling open the plastic packaging and taking out one of the steaks.

Tyler is at the sink, squeezing out the spinach when he asks, “You hear about the explosion in Frisco? Near the practice facility? It’s the 3rd explosion like it in the past two months. They’re saying it’s a super.”

“Still no injuries though, right?”

“Yeah, that’s why it’s so weird. The guy’s only targeting empty buildings. And they’re all in different cities. There’s no pattern.”

Jamie keeps his face impassive. “Yeah, it doesn’t make any sense. They should totally start locking those people up.” Jamie knows Tyler likes some of the public supers, but he’s not too sure of his opinions of them in general. He’s had enough bad reactions from people after voicing his opinions that he doesn’t mind sounding like a douche if it stops him having to hear that supers are abominations.

Tyler snorts. “Wow, you sound like such a Texan, dude. I wouldn’t go that far. They can’t help how they were born.” He pauses to crack an egg into the pan.

Jamie laughs, relieved. “Yeah I was just messing with you. I don’t actually think that.” He throws the cut up ham into the pan as well.

“But someone really needs to do something,” Tyler says, mixing around the eggs.

“Well why don’t you do something about it, hot shot?”

Jamie didn’t really mean anything by it, just some light chirping, so he’s surprised when Tyler says, “Fine. Maybe I will.”

“No, no. I was just messing with you,” Jamie backtracks. “It’s not like you’re a super or anything. You can’t possibly do anything against someone who can control fire or make explosions or whatever.”

“Yeah, but there’s gotta be some sort of pattern here. We could look into it.” Tyler divvies up the eggs onto two plates and brings them to the table. “Grab some orange juice, dude.”

Jamie fills up two glasses and follows Tyler to the table. “Alright, Vigilante Justice, if it’ll make you happy we’ll google some stuff later. But breakfast and morning skate first, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Jamie tries not to wince as he chews and swallows a piece of eggshell. “Thanks for breakfast, man. It’s great.” He takes a huge gulp of juice.

Tyler smiles wide. “Thanks, Benny,” he says and leans over to punch Jamie in the shoulder.

 

They have a game against the Bruins that night, and, for Tyler, that brings with it all the anxiety of seeing an ex across the room at a party. After morning skate, with Tyler behind the wheel, Jamie, Jordie, Trevor, and Antoine pile into Tyler’s ridiculous Jeep to get some Starbucks. Trevor is sitting in the front seat, grabbing at the dashboard when Tyler makes too sharp of a turn, and Antoine and the Benn brothers are crammed into the back seat, hockey gear behind them.

Tyler is rambling a bit about the Bruins’ defence, talking too fast to compensate for his nerves. Jamie is hunched over a bit next to Jordie, who has Antoine next to him. Antoine is looking out the window, ignoring everyone in the car. Tyler’s nerves are starting to affect Jamie, and he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing before Jordie elbows him in the ribs and juts his chin toward Jamie’s hands. Jamie had collected some moisture from the air into a small ball of water that he was turning in his palm.

“Ah, crap,” he says, and the water falls down and splashes his flip-flopped feet.

Tyler stops mid-sentence. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jordie answers for his brother. “Maybe you should focus on the road so we can all get some shitty coffee without dying first.”

Antoine snorts, Tyler huffs, and they pull into the Starbucks parking lot unharmed.

Jamie orders his iced green tea while behind him, Antoine complains about North American coffee preferences. “That’s not even coffee,” he says about the frappuccinos. “It’s milk, sugar, and death with a straw.”

“Shut up, Roussell, it’s delicious. Way better than that tiny cup of garbage you order,” Trevor says, deciding between the Java Chip and Mocha frappuccinos.

Antoine blinks his eyes rapidly. “Excuse you, espresso is great.” Jordie laughs, and Antoine turns on Jordie, pointing a finger. “You’re one to talk. You drink iced coffee with one of these stale, liar croissants. They are a disgrace.”

Tyler and Jordie groan, knowing more complaining is coming up, when a teenager’s voice drifts toward them from the back of the line. “John, honestly, you’re talking out your ass. In no world is Green Thumb better than Valkyrie. Her name is shitty and her power is shitty.”

Jamie whips around mid-order and shakes his head rapidly at Tyler, but it’s too late. Tyler has already turned to to face the girl. “Excuse you,” he said, bringing a hand up in front of him in the sign for you-need-to-stop-yourself-before-I-stop-you. “Green Thumb is one of the greats, miles ahead of Valkyrie. Did you see her last week stop Chlorokill by using his own powers against him. Strangled him with vines even with her face all busted up. Incredible. What has Valkyrie done this month? Save Sleipnir from a tree?” He turns back around, leaving the girl with her mouth gaping.

Jamie turns back to the barista to apologize, while Jordie says behind him, “Sleipnir? Since when do you know so much about Norse mythology, Segs?”

“Since I found out how Sleipnir was born.”

 

The game against the Bruins that night is disappointing, but, well, it could have been worse.

It started out well enough, Cole scoring early, and during first intermission they sat at 1-0. In the second, they had more than a few stupid turnovers, and Bergeron got a nice breakaway goal midway through the second period. Both teams went into the third hungry for a win, but after a nasty hit and a trip from Boston with no penalties called, the Stars were fed up.

Jamie and Lucic dropped the gloves. It was a pretty even fight, each getting in a few punches. Lucic hit Jamie in the side just before Jamie landed an uppercut, the two tumbled to the ice, and it was over. The fight didn’t contribute much to the game other than to relieve a bit of tension, so the game went to overtime. Then to a shootout. Which the Stars lost.

In the locker room, Jamie is taking off his equipment after the game. He pulls his sweater off and makes to get rid of it until he sees the burn mark. “What the…?” It’s clearly singed, black around the edges, not worn down from the game or torn.

His mind is taken off it by a conversation Kari starts up with Jokipakka right in front of him. “So did you hear about those fires? The one in Frisco? The one tonight a few blocks away?”

Jyrki looks taken aback. “There was a second one?”

“Before the game, yeah. It was smaller, but it’s the same kind of explosion.”

Just outside of the locker room, a few dozen sticks falls, ten NHL players jump violently at the noise, and muffled cursing is heard.

A few nervous laughs sound, and Jyrki and Kari look at each other to start back up their conversation. Kari squints his eyes at Jokipakka, then asks, “Why are we speaking in English?” Both shrug, then walk off, continuing their discussion in rapidfire Finnish.

Tyler catches Jamies eye and raises his eyebrows pointedly. We need to look into this.

Jamie shrugs, then nods. He’s probably going to be up a long time tonight and not for anything fun.

 

Two hours after the game, and Tyler and Jamie have scoured half the internet looking for leads. They’ve read nearly every news article published since the explosions started and even the bullshit comments section that’s filled with conspiracy theorists. Jamie is sitting next to Tyler at the desk in Tyler’s bedroom. He leans back on the chair, and rubs his eyes. “Look, I don’t think we’re going to find anything, and I’m exhausted. We played a hard game tonight. Let’s just leave this to the professionals.”

Tyler looks up from the computer screen where he’s listed the dates of all the attacks. “Shit.”

“What is it?”

“I think I have an idea.”

“Okay. Again, what is it?”

Tyler waves him off. “Lemme look.” He taps away at the keyboard before meeting Jamie’s stare. Tyler shakes his head, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. “Each of the explosions match up perfectly with the cities where the Bruins played on the road.”

Jamie huffs. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He looks at Tyler’s earnest expression. “You’re not kidding. Great. Let’s indulge you. Which one of your shitty ex-teammates seems like a closeted supervillain who controls fire? That should be pretty easy to figure out, eh?”

Tyler shrugs. “Actually…”

“What now?”

“I mean there was this one time during a game against Montreal...”

Jamie smacks his hand against the desk. “Jesus, Tyler just spit it out.”

“Okay, okay.” Tyler looks away from Jamie, finger tracing over the tattoos in his forearm. “Someone pissed off Lucic, he got in a fight, and when he was skating to the box, I thought I saw some sparks at his fingertips. I ignored it; I thought it was just the lights in the arena acting up.” He looks up. “This can’t be a coincidence.”

“Fuck.” Jamie stands up and walks back and forth across Tyler’s bedroom floor. “I noticed after the game today that my jersey was singed. Like it caught on fire or something.”

Tyler blinks. “This is really happening isn’t it? Okay, well apparently Looch has lost it and is setting fires to feel joy? I—This is… This is weird, dude.”

“Yeah it is, but we’ve got to tell someone about this. Even if it turns out to be nothing, at least we tried.”  
Tyler stand up, too, and grabs at Jamie’s wrist to stop him pacing. “Say we do that. Who’s going to take us seriously? Who’s going to believe us? I have a half-imagined memory of him playing with fire, your jersey is beat up after a professional hockey game, and the dates could just be a coincidence. No man, we have to do this ourselves. We have a game in Boston in three weeks. We’ll just have to do some snooping while we’re there. I know my way around TD Garden, and Lucic and I aren’t on bad terms. I could go to his house, look around a little...”

“Tyler, we have to go to the—”

“No, Jamie. We’re just gonna look around. It’ll be fine.”

Jamie shakes his head, defeated, and pulls his wrist away from Tyler. “Fine, Tyler. We’ll do this your way.”

 

After five more explosions, the last of which injures a person walking past on the sidewalk, the Stars head into Boston on a three game winning streak. There’s a confident air in the locker room, only just overpowered by the smell of dirty jockstraps and the undercurrent of repressed fear.

Tyler plops down next to Spezza. “Sup, Jason? I’m gonna borrow Jamie for a second, ‘kay?”

“Sure thing,” Jason says, sarcasm heavy, and gets up. “You kids have fun.”

“So,” Tyler says, waving to Spezza before turning to Jamie. “The plan.”

“Yes,” Jamie says. “We have been over the plan a million times and are currently surrounded by people.”

“Indulge me. So after the game, I go to Hothead’s house and get him to spill the beans so I  can record him on my phone. You’re waiting just outside to call the police and also for backup. Good?”

“Yes. That is the plan. It is a dumb plan, but that is the plan. And Hothead is not happening.”

“Hothead is a great Supervillain name.”

“Okay, Segs.”

“And it’s not a dumb plan.”

“Okay, Segs.”

 

The Stars get two second period goals and hold the lead into the third. The Bruins pull Rask with two and half minutes left on the clock, and there is a faceoff to the left of Kari. From where he stands, Jamie can see heatwaves radiating off of Lucic’s gloves.

“Hey!” Jamie says, loudly. “Cool it, Hothead.” He looks at Lucic, knowingly, then around to the arena. “Seriously.”

The puck drops.

Lucic skates over to Jamie and drops his gloves. Jamie has just enough time to get his gloves off before he’s punched just above his eye. He feels the blood dripping down his face as he lands as many punches as he can.

Lucic grabs him by the collar, and Jamie can feel his throat burning. “You better keep your mouth shut.”

Jamie swings his fist around and makes contact with Lucic’s body, but the heat only increases. He wriggles a bit, but it's still getting hotter. He can’t take it anymore and grabs some water from the air to stop it.

Lucic is too close not to notice, and his eyes light up like he’s just won the Cup. He lets go and skates away.

Skating back, blood dripping into his eyes from his busted eyebrow, Jamie points at Tyler on the bench and shakes his head. “Plan is off!” he yells. Jamie raises his eyebrows at Tyler to make sure he heard.

Tyler scowls and sighs, then looks down at his skates before nodding.

After Jamie is stitched up and the Stars secure another win, Jamie being interviewed and doesn’t notice Tyler picks up his bag and walk out of the arena. After the last of the reporters leave, Jamie gets up to talk to Tyler. After finding his place empty, he whips his head around to find him. “Hey, Jason,” Jamie asks, faux-casual, as Demers walks past. “Where’s Segs?”

“Oh he left like five, ten minutes ago. Why?”

“No reason. We were just gonna go out for food after the game,” Jamie replies, throat dry.

“Oh sweet. We can go. I think Eaks said he was hungry.”

“Yeah I’m not really feeling so hot right now. I was actually gonna tell Tyler I wanted to cancel.”

Jason slaps him on the arm. “Well hey, man, feel better.”

“Sure thing.”

Jamie looks around before deciding what to do. He sees a reporter’s tape recorder on the bench and lifts it without anyone noticing. Then he grabs his phone, escapes the locker room, and runs out of TD Garden.

 

After leaving a frantic voicemail to Tyler, Jamie checks his texts from Tyler to get Lucic’s address and grabs a cab. Sitting in the backseat, he taps his fingers against his thigh absently and focuses on keeping his breathing even.

“Hey, son,” the older taxi driver says.

“Yeah,” Jamie says, looking up.

“I’d appreciate it if you could stop the snow happening in the backseat,” he smiles at Jamie.

Jamie looks up and gets a smattering of snowflakes in his eyes. “Shit, sorry. Nervous tic.” The snow stops.

The cab driver looks back at the road. “Not to worry. I have nothing against supers. My granddaughter can talk to animals.”

The rest of the ride is silent, and when they arrive at Lucic’s house Jamie makes sure to tip him extra. He starts to walk away, but turns back and asks, “Hey would you mind waiting here for a bit? I’m not sure my friend is actually gonna be here. If I’m not back in ten minutes, you can leave.”

“Sure thing, kid.”

“Thanks.” Jamie turns and jogs up to the house. The lights are all on and the door is open. He runs through it and looks around for any signs of life. No one is there, but pretty quickly Jamie notices the small fire on the kitchen counter. It’s burning seemingly of its own accord inside a sealed glass jar. Underneath it is a note in unfamiliar handwriting: We’re at the top of John Hancock Tower. Don’t call the cops or pretty boy will be a little hotter than usual.

 

The cab driver, whose name is Carl, drives them to the specified building as quickly as he feels comfortable doing. Jamie learns a lot about Carl and his family on the ride over, and is grateful for the distraction. “So my daughter and her wife are going to start Christine at an all-super school next fall. It’ll be good for her to be around people like her and learn more about her abilities. Anyway, we’re here. Good luck doing whatever it is you’re doing, kid.”

“Thank you so much. For everything,” Jamie says, handing his fare over, and sprinting to the building.

The elevator ride to the top of the building makes Jamie feel trapped and helpless, like he’s stuck in the penalty box while his team is down 5-0. The doors open at the top floor, and Jamie climbs the ladder in the stairwell up to the roof.

Standing near the edge of the roof is Lucic, Tyler at his side. Lucic’s fingertips are sparking like an empty lighter and a small fire has started at his feet from all the debris. “Hey Benn, we’ve just been discussing what’s going to happen.”

Jamie takes small, careful steps over toward the two. “Okay. What’s going to happen?”

Lucic pulls Tyler’s phone out of his pocket. “Well no one’s recording any confession from me first of all. Throw me yours.”

Jamie puts his hands up a little, acquiescent. “Okay,” he says and reaches into his pocket for his cell. He grabs it and presses down the record button on the stolen tape recorder at the same time. He steps forward a bit to toss the phone to Lucic and get in better range for any conversation that follows.

“Good. Now that that piece of Hollywood dramatics is out of the way, this is what’s going to happen. You two are going to leave Boston and never tell anyone about what you found out. And I promise not to burn down your houses with you inside them.”

Tyler turns to look at Lucic. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Looch? You set dozens of buildings on fire, injured someone, and now you’re threatening our lives?”

“You were going to send me to jail. I’ll do what it takes to make sure that doesn't happen.”

“You are so fucked up.”

“Everybody calm down,” Jamie says and steps forward again. “Look I don’t even understand what’s going on. Why were you doing it in the first place? For fun? I don’t understand.”

Lucic snorts. “It was just an intimidation tactic. Set some empty buildings on fire, scare the other teams before the game. I didn’t mean anything by it. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” He turns to Tyler. “So you shut the fuck up.”

“Fuck you. Does domestic terrorism light up anything in that empty brain of yours?”

“I’m Canadian, dipshit.” The sparks at Lucic’s fingers have turned into a small orange fire that engulfs the bottom half of his hands.

“I know that.”

“Guy, stop,” Jamie cuts in. “Look, Looch, me and Tyler will leave right now and we promise not to tell anyone, okay?”

“Fuck no, we won’t. What’s wrong with you? He could have killed people!” Tyler says and steps forward.

“Oh yeah, what’re you going to do about it.”

“This,” Tyler says, and shoves Lucic.

“Hey!” Jamie yells and jumps in between the two of them. “Cut it out we’re on the roof, you idiots.”

“Tell your boyfriend to back off then,” Lucic says, and Jamie steps back, motioning at Tyler to follow him.

“Fuck no,” Tyler says.

“Shut the fuck up,” Lucic says and pushes Tyler, hard.

Tyler trips going backward and falls. Jamie rushes forward, falling to his knees, concrete scraping through the fabric of his sweats and bloodying his knees. He isn’t fast enough to catch Tyler as he disappears over the edge of the roof.

Jamie twists around, scraping his knees more. “You motherfucker!” he yells, and he can feel the air around him pulsating, the water rushing together.

Lucic’s eyes are wide. “I… I didn’t… I—fuck.”

Jamie stands up, and the water rushes to him, collecting in front of his chest. Lucic doesn’t do anything. The ball of water presses forward toward Lucic and hits him, knocking him onto the ground, unconscious. Rather than exploding, the ball expands, forming a hollow cage around him.

Jamie is shaking when he turns around to the edge of the roof. He steps forward, forward toward the edge. He closes his eyes and bends over to face the sidewalk below. He can’t open his eyes.

“Jamie, I’m okay.”

Jamie lifts his head and opens his eyes. Tyler is right in front of him, hovering just above him, in midair. He steps forward onto the roof next to Jamie.

Jamie opens and closes his mouth. “Shit, Tyler,” he says and grabs onto Tyler, pulling him into a hug. “Don’t do that again.”

Tyler hugs him back.

Jamie pulls back and has tears in his eyes that he doesn’t try to brush away. High on the moment, he leans in and kisses Tyler full on the mouth.

Tyler kisses him back.

They break apart. “Seriously,” Jamie says. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“What?” Tyler says, smirking. “Kiss you?”

Jamie snorts. “No, you can do that again.” So Tyler does.

A few minutes later, they leave the roof, Lucic still in his water cage, the tape recorder next to him, and a phone call made to the police.

 

It’s snowing in Dallas on Christmas Eve. More specifically it’s snowing in Tyler’s backyard in Dallas on Christmas Eve.

Cash and Marshall are running around, biting at snowflakes and shaking themselves off every few minutes. Jamie is using Tyler’s hose to flood the yard as Tyler laces his skates up. “I cannot believe you can control water. This is incredible,” Tyler says.

Jamie turns the hose off. He shrugs and turns to Tyler. “Yeah, well you can fly, so…” He turns the water into ice. “Sweet, it’s done.”

Cash is distracted from the snow by the appearance of the rink. He puts his paw on the ice tentatively, then pulls it back. Then he puts it back on, pulls it back again, and barks at it.

“Shh, Cash,” Tyler says and pulls himself off the ground. Cash eyes the ice warily before running back to play with Marshall.

Jamie steps on the ice and takes a lap. “Feels good to me.”

Tyler hovers above the grass, and floats over to the rink. He drops down onto it, and skates over to Jamie. “Same.”

They take a few laps, when Tyler turns around to face Jamie. “Hey do you ever use your powers to cheat? Like if the ice is bad, do you fix it?”

Jamie’s already wide eyes widen. “Um, I mean… Not often, but sometimes, yeah.” He pauses. “Wait, do you? Like you know make yourself ‘fly’ down the ice?”

Tyler looks like he was not anticipating the question. “Pfft. Uh, you know. Sometimes. Only if we’re losing.”

Jamie laughs. “Well at least I’m not the only one.”

“Nah, you’re not,” Tyler says. His feet are no longer on the ice. He grabs Jamie’s hand to pull them around the ice, and presses a kiss to his forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> It figures that my first venture back into writing fan fiction in like 5 years is hockey rpf. Whoops. Not sorry. This was unbetaed, so all mistakes are totally mine. Also I'm sorry I'm so shit at picking titles and also for my bad jokes.
> 
> I would like to apologize to Antoine Roussel for making him very, very (offensively) French, and also to Milan Lucic, who is an asshole, but would hopefully never become an arsonist in the name of hockey.


End file.
